The Perfect Model
by noctepanther
Summary: The Perfect Model...that elusive dream of artists everywhere...appears before Beastboy on a moonlit night


The Perfect Model.

A/N: This is kind of based off of my other fic, "Of Paintings". Which also sucks.

I don't own it.

Beastboy gave a disgusted sigh as he tore up yet another canvas of imperfection. A black beret arranged jauntily on his head, the Green One had planned for a relaxing day of painting, but was failing miserably. Everything that came from his brush seemed...wrong. Off in someway. Littered all around him were torn up canvases and ruined brushes. A frustrated look in his eyes, Beastboy picked up his materials and went in search of source of inspiration.

His emerald eyes swept the grounds, looking for something, anything that stood out, crying to be captured forever. Calm yellow light drifting lazily in through green forest walls. A reddish butterfly gently resting upon a white rose. The blue waves crashing upon the golden shore. There was no question that there was beauty all around him, but not the _right_ kind of beauty. The kind that made one stand in awe, forget all the troubles in the world, or just made someone feel utterly at peace.

Beastboy crept slowly through the woods, looking for the perfect scene. His head turned every which way, eager not to miss anything. The ears upon his head twitched at every sound, listening to see if anything called to him. But his eyes saw nothing but dull colors, and his ears heard nothing but toneless sounds.

He walked into a clearing, feet making no sound on the green forest floor. Sitting on an abandoned tree stump in the middle, Beastboy closed his eyes, hoping that if he thought about it enough, the painting would come to him.

The birds chirped overhead, and the rabbits rustled in the woods. The sun made it's slow way across it's well worn path in the sky.

And still he sat there, eyes closed, hoping and wishing.

The chirping of the birds disappeared, as did the rustling of the rabbits. The loving warmth of the sun left, and was replaced by the gentle glow of the moon.

And still he sat there, eyes closed, hoping and wishing.

Until a dulcet voice stirred him from his reverie. "Beastboy? What are doing out here? Everyone is worried about you."

His eyes snapped open to see Raven standing there, between him and the full moon. A slight breeze was causing her cape and hair to move, and the moonlight was making her already lovely purple hair shine brightly. Her chakra glistened strangely, lending Raven an extra air of mystery. And her pale body, bathed in the light of Selene, glowed, all of which made her appear to him a Goddess.

"Don't. Move." Beastboy commanded, hurriedly grabbing a blank canvas and brushes. Quickly he made masterful strokes against the blank page, slowly filling the white with color.

Biting on his tongue, he concentrated intensely on the task at hand, trying to capture everything. The moon, the trees, the owl in the sky, and above all else, Raven.

Until at last, he was done. Beastboy held the painting up and examined it under a critical eye. It was without a doubt the single most beautiful thing he had ever created.

And, he couldn't stop staring at it. At Raven. A small smile played upon her lips in the painting, although she bore a face of concern in real life. Her amethyst eyes were twinkling in the moonlight, but her real eyes held a different expression. Of wonderment, confusion, and amusement.

Raven walked around Beastboy and looked at the painting she helped to create. Her mouth dropped a little in amazement. "Beastboy...it's...it's..."

"It's nothing." He stated simply.

"What! That is one of the best paintings I have ever seen!"

Beastboy shook his head, the beret falling off. "No. It's nothing in comparison to the way you always look." His normal smile fell into a frown. "I failed in capturing you. Hmph. If there is one thing I ever wanted to paint right, it's you."

Raven pulled her hood up as a slight blush crept across her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered.

The Changeling glared at the painting. "Don't thank me. It's hideous. I never should have even started to paint it." He made to tear the canvas in two.

"Don't!" she cried out, snatching it away to safety. Cradling the painting in her arms, Raven looked up at him. "Why do you say that?"

Beastboy sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Because I love you Raven, that's why! And I want to do you justice, and make you as beautiful as you are!" He seemed totally oblivious to fact that he was telling her the biggest secret lying within his soul.

Raven was suddenly glad she had her hood up, for the blush that had crept was now launching a full fledged attack against her face. "You...love me?"

"Yes!" He cried out, throwing his hands in the air. "Is that so hard to believe? That someone, even me, loves you and wants to show you to the world!"

Beastboy stopped to take a breath of the crisp night air, ready to start ranting, but was prevented by Raven's lips upon his own.

And there they stood, pale white and dark green skin glowing the moonlight, jeweled eyes shining, hair and cape blowing.

And no one needed to capture it upon a canvas, for it would always be etched in their memories.

A/N: That...did not end up at all like I had planned. Eh, just another piece to add to my growing pile of crap-ass fanfiction. Review if you want to, not like anyone does anyways.


End file.
